


First Times

by Crystalliced



Series: Memoirs of a Violinist [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Carnival Rides, F/M, Fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-05 12:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3120710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalliced/pseuds/Crystalliced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of first moments from the time they meet each other until the time he proposes.</p><p>May add smut as a bonus chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coincidentally

Omake

Tyler:   I could rant about how this story came into being, or I could just give it to you.

Lindsey:  Hey!  Stop annoying the readers!  Sorry about him, he’s a jerk.

Tyler:  It’s one of my finer traits.

Lindsey:  Whatever.  This is mine and the jerk’s memoirs.  We figured, hey, someone might want to read this someday.

Tyler:  Or maybe there’s a lazy author somewhere that got bored and decided to bring this story to life.

Lindsey:  What are the odds of that?  That’s ridiculous.

Tyler:  Anyways, I get to start off the story.  Hm...Where should we start?

Lindsey:  At the very first time we met.  That would be good.

Tyler:  Should I include the whole day, or just when we met?

Lindsey:  Do you want to bore the readers before they even get to the good part?

 

 

 

* * *

**  
**

**...The first time they meet...**

**  
  
**

      I’m tired, exhausted, and I really just want to get home so I can take a nap before I hit the books.  My final exams start tomorrow and I hope to have some time to study with a clear mind.  

     My mind’s already half asleep and I’m only partially paying attention to where I’m going; tripping down the stairs would be a major inconvenience and I’m doing my best to avoid that possibility.  Even if I fall, the odds of a break remain fairly low, but pain is not something I’m particularly interested in experiencing nor is

     I am, however, alert enough to figure out where I am and where I want to be, which is a feat that doesn’t require all too many brain cells, but I’m too absorbed in my thoughts to register peripheral movement or sound.  As such, I completely miss the movement to my right, and the accompanying footsteps, until I’m knocked sideways a bit.

    My attacker - a girl, I realize, when I turn to look at her, and a cute one at that - has bounced off me and landed on her butt with a surprised “Ow!”.  I almost laugh at the expression of bewilderment on her face, but, realizing that would be rather rude, keep my reaction down to a friendly smile.  The impact didn’t hurt, though it certainly was surprising.  

    ‘Light as a pixie’, I think, looking her over.  She seems...fragile, but at the same time, startling...bright, if her crystal-blue eyes are any indication.  Brown hair pokes out from under the black, hooded sweater she wears as a part of the college uniform.  A white dress shirt peeks out from the V of her neck, and a knee-length blue skirt completes the outfit.

     “Ah, sorry!”  The unknown girl exclaims.  I laugh good-naturedly and offer my hand to her.  “You can’t take all the credit, I wasn’t paying attention myself.”  She gives me a grateful smile and accepts my hand, pulling herself up.  

     “No, no, that wasn’t your fault, um...”  The brunette falters while looking at me semi-expectantly.

     “...Tyler.  Tyler Nakamura.  And your name?”  After a moment’s thought, I continue walking out of the totally deserted campus, and she keeps in line with me.

     “Lindsey Stirling.”  She kicks a rock and I watch it skitter away into the grass before glancing at her.  Our eyes meet briefly before she looks away.

     “You’re a university student?”  I ask, pointing at her uniform.  She nods, eyes regarding me cautiously.  “You must be one, too.”  She responds, pointing at my standard black jacket and slacks identifying me as a third-year student.

     “So...If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your major?  I mean, if it’s not any trouble...”  She falters.

     “Film.”  I say, then:  “No one asks, anyways.  Besides you.”  

     “Third-year film?  And you’re not in my class?”  Lindsey sounds surprised.  “It’s a small class, right...?”  She trails off.

      “There’s two classes, actually.  Since it’s more specialized and hands-on all the time, there needs to be tiny groups so that people can pay attention and learn.”  I explain.

      “Wait, seriously?  When were we told that?”  

      “They didn’t.  I walked in the second class by accident my first day.”  She laughs.  “Actually, what I said earlier; that’s the official explanation.”

      “...Official explanation?”  She questions, confused.  

      “I’m pretty sure they’re just too poor to buy cameras for an entire class.”  Lindsey laughs again.  “It’s probably true, what with all the budget cuts.”  

      “Oh.”  Lindsey says quietly.  

      “Don’t pay attention to the school’s finances?”

      “Nope.”  A hint of a real smile forms on my face.  “No one does.”

      “Besides you?”  She asks teasingly, and I smirk.  “More or less.”

      She takes to staring up at the coloring sky.  It’s - wow, it’s already dusk.  I didn’t think so much time had passed, but then again...considering the hour, I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise.  

     “You know, most people don’t take the time to stop to admire the sunset properly.”  She murmurs quietly.  I shrug noncommittally, feeling vaguely ashamed that I was guilty of that exact offense.  “It’s really a beautiful sight, especially today.  Look, there aren’t even any clouds up there.”  I look up.

     “Hm.”  She’s right.  And I would be enjoying this sight, if I wasn’t so acutely aware that I really needed to go somewhere.

     “You know, for someone majoring in Film, you’re supposed to enjoy these sights and drool all over them.  You don’t sound very impressed.”  Her voice seems rather soft, with a teasing lilt.  

     “I am, but...”  I sigh.  “Well, it wasn’t that important, anyways.”  I look around for my companion to find that she has dropped to the sidewalk, flat on the ground, to continue looking at the sky.

     “Oh.  Finals studying?”  I don’t respond right away, choosing to sit next to Lindsey instead.  “Yeah.  It really isn’t something I need to do, considering how relaxed all my classes are...But still, it couldn’t have hurt, right?”

     “Er...sorry.  Do you need to go and-”

     “Nope.”  I interrupt blankly, lying down a comfortable distance away from the brunette.  “Did you?”

     “Ah...kind of.”  I can feel the brunette’s blush from my position.  

     “For what subjects?  Maybe I can help you study, if I’ve taken them?”  There’s a much longer pause before her next answer.  

     “Tomorrow, all I have is English.  Well, and Physics; but I spent the whole weekend studying for that, so I should be fine.”  she says, as I lean my body slightly towards her so that I can gauge her reactions.  

       “Oh, okay.  I’m great at both subjects, so I can quiz you.”  I reply simply, She rolls over so that she’s facing me.

       “That’s, ah, a really generous offer, but don’t you have stuff to do?  I don’t want to be a burden or anything-”

     “I have English and Physics tomorrow, too, so you’d actually be doing me a favor.  And I didn’t really have anything planned, so I don’t have any problem staying here.  You don’t have anythi-”

     “Nope.”  She cuts in.

     “...Huh, well okay, then.  The biggest thing we needed to memorize for the exam was “The Awakening”, right?  Name two usages of personification in it.”  

**  
  
  
**

    “And why did Romeo die in the tomb?”  I ask, my most recent set of questions having been based off ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the last of four different stories we’ve been required to read this semester.  

    “Because he was an idiot.”  Lindsey replies confidently, eliciting an eyeroll from me.  

    “...And if I had asked you why Juliet had died?”  

    “Because her husband was an idiot.”  The brunette shoots back with equal fervor.  I can’t help but sigh.

    “What if they were genderbent?”  She gives me an odd look.  “Boy or girl, Romeo was an idiot.  If he had just spent a few minutes mourning his wife rather than drinking the potion then he wouldn’t have had to die, since Juliet would be alive.  And if he actually loved his wife, he should have done that.”

    “...Maybe he loved Juliet so much that he wanted to get to her as fast as he could?”  I offer lamely, not really able to contest her logic, especially since I agree so much with it.  In response, she gives me a look that clearly reads ‘Are you stupid?’

    “Fair enough.”  I say, sighing.  “It’s hard to argue against something you believe, anyways.”

    “Then you should just hush and let me be right.”  Lindsey grins victoriously and I smile.

    “Well, I think you more or less have everything down pat.  Especially if you’re feeling comfortable enough to insult the characters of a classic.”  I shake my head.  We relocated to a nearby bench after going through the first series of questions, and she’s already pushed me off four times.  

    “And clearly you didn’t need to study if you can debate about my complaints.”  Lindsey responds, kicking me playfully under the table.  I throw a yellow flower at her head in revenge, to her amusement - the blossom flutters away uselessly.

     “Did you expect that to-”  

     “Not really.  It was worth a shot, though.”  We both stare at the crumpled and battered petals.

     “...Are you sure you’re good at Physics?”  Lindsey says, giggling a little as I level a blank stare at her.  But, despite that, I smile.  

     I may have not gotten my study time, and I might do poorly on my exams tomorrow as a result.  

**“But...”  I think later, after Lindsey and I have parted ways, “I don’t regret a thing.”  
**

 

* * *

 

 

Omake

Tyler:  Oh, this next part of the story’s going to be boring.

Lindsey:  But I’m going to be the one telling it!

Tyler:  Exactly.

Lindsey :  Jerk. ** **  
****

 

 


	2. Self-Esteem

**  
**

**...The first time she thinks she likes him...**

     “Well?”  Tyler asks inquisitively, walking with me away from the masses of students.  We just walked out of our first English exam, meeting up at my locker.  

      “I think I did okay.”  I say tentatively.  The black-haired male nudges me with his shoulder.  

      “If I spent four hours out in freezing weather to get home at ten because I studied with you, you have better not just done ‘okay’, young miss.”  He responds, laughing as I push him back lightly.  

      “Alright, fine, I did absolutely amazing.  Awesome.”  I say blankly, with as little emotion as possible.  He snickers.

      “So, like, you should get an A+, right?  That’s awesome.”  I freeze up at his words.

      “...Tyler, I’m n-not an academic...”  To my surprise, he just pats my head.  

      “It’s not hard to be one.  Or fake it, anyways.”  He shrugs.  “I don’t have any problems tutoring you or helping you study if you want me to.”  

      “I’m a tough student.”  I mutter.

      “I’m a tougher teacher.”  He replies, smiling, and suddenly I feel my heart flutter.

      It’s just anxiety over the tutoring I’m going to accept.  

      Nothing at all to do with the onyx-eyed man next to me.

**Right.  
**

 

* * *

 

 

Omake

Tyler:   Wow, so you were a dork way in the beginning, too?

Lindsey:   Just you wait until the next chapter! ** **  
** **


	3. Ice Cream

 

**...The first time he thinks he likes her...**

      “...Ice cream?”  I ask confusedly, when Lindsey brings up the subject.  It’s the day after I officially started tutoring her and we’re getting ready to study for the last day of exams.

      “Yes, take me to the ice cream store down the street.”  The brunette says / demands.

      “...Like...on a date?”  I inquire hesitantly, to which she blushes slightly.

      “N-No!  Not on a date!  Tyler, we just met!”  She responds, burying her head in her hands.  “Like, a celebration.  For not flunking my English exam?”  Lindsey sighs when I give her a blank look.  

      “...Ice cream?”  I finally say.  “Really?”  

      “My mom used to take me every year I graduated...”  She mumbles under her breath.

      “Fair enough.”  I say, shrugging.  “Let’s go get some ice cream.”

**  
  
**

     “Wait.  Seriously?  You’ve never had ice cream?”  Lindsey asks me, bewildered, when I look around at all the new words and sights.  

      “I never said that...”  I falter off under her stare.  “Okay, no...but that’s not a bad thing, ri-”

      “You’re eating ice cream, today, now.”  She says firmly, dragging me towards the order line.

      “W-Wait, I don’t even have money!”  She doesn’t stop.  “That won’t be a problem, I’ll pay for you.”  

       “...But if you pay for me, doesn’t that make it a date?”  That’s when she hesitates.

       “You can be annoying after you get your ice cream.  And this isn’t a date.”  She responds, though I can tell she’s flushing again.  

       “There’s no harm in a friendly da-”  I’m cut off by her hasty reply.

       “Not a date!”  

    I stare pensively at the chocolate ice cream in my cup.  The brunette across from me happily snacks on her vanilla treat.  

    “You know, you can’t try it if you don’t eat it.”  Lindsey says, sparing me a glance before continuing to eat her own.  I just shrug.

    “How much did this cost?”  I ask, craning my neck to look at the prices board.  

    “It’s not important.  I bought it for a friend, so it’s free.”  She replies simply, swallowing another mouthful.

     “Really?  Who?”  I question confusedly.  She just gives me a ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ look.  

     “...Sometimes it scares me that you were the one to help me on my English final.”  

     “...Wait.  Oh.”  

     “Hurry up and eat the ice cream before you lose more brain cells.”  She shakes her head, suppressing laughter.  I just nod and pick up my spoon, twirling it between my fingers.

     “Hey, Lindsey?”  I ask, dipping my spoon into the chocolate treat.

     “Yeah?”

     “Why’d you buy this for me?  I mean, you didn’t really owe me anything, and-”

     “Like I said.  You’re my friend.”  She shrugs.  “Well, you did help me study.  This isn’t anything in comparison.”  

     “You do realize I was helping myself study, too...”  I mutter lowly.

     “When you decided to help me study, were you doing it with the intention of helping yourself, or helping me?”  Lindsey asked.

     “You, but-”

     “And that’s why we’re friends.”  She says simply.  “Because you care.”  

     I smile to myself as I take my first bite of chocolate ice cream, and admit to myself that it is, unsurprisingly, very sweet.  

**Just like the donor.**

* * *

 

 

Omake

Lindsey:   Haha, you were a sap in the beginning too!

Tyler:  I deny everything. ** **  
****


	4. Rainwater

**...The first time he holds her hand... **

    “Hey, look.”  Tyler says, motioning up towards the sky.  “Looks like rainclouds.”  It’s been about four weeks since the final exams and we’ve just gotten back from winter break.  Two days into the second semester, he met me at my locker after school and now we’re walking through the school grounds.

    But unlike the other times we’ve met up, this time there’s no tutoring to be done, or studying, which is why I was so surprised when he popped up as I was getting ready to walk home.

    “Yeah.  There aren’t that many though...hope it doesn’t storm.”  I reply, remembering he looked vaguely offended when I asked him why he had come, and he had responded  “Is it such an offense to visit a friend?”  We had kept up through text messages over winter break but hadn’t gotten to visit each other - and indeed, this is the first time I’ve got to see him since our last study session.

    “Hey, look!  That one looks like an ice cream cone!”  I say excitedly, pointing towards the horizon.  He studies it, craning his neck to get around the tree in his vision.  The school supports a small, simple garden, and we’re walking on one of the stone paths that wind through it.

    “That’s a rock.”  Tyler says blankly.  I give it a second look.

    “A cone-shaped rock?  It’s an ice cream cone.”  I retort petulantly.  

    “Lindsey.”  He blurts out.

    “Huh?”  

    “Wait right here.”  He walks over, off the path, and looks down at the ground for a second before picking something up and pressing it into my hand.  

    “Case in point.”  I stare at the dirty object in my palm.

    “...You’re a jerk.”  I finally say, half-heartedly, as I brush off the dust on the small, cone-shaped rock that he dropped into my hand.

    “One of my finer traits.”  He responds happily, continuing his stroll along the path.  I consider throwing the stone at his head but instead slip it into my sweater pocket, smiling all the while before dashing after him.  

     “You have terrible friendship tokens.”  I laugh, nudging him with my shoulder as I catch up.  He shoots me a pointed look.

     “Which explains why you’re keeping it, right?”  I merely scowl at him in response and he laughs.  I’m about to pick up another rock and throw it at him - and probably miss - but freeze when I feel the first of a series of raindrops.

     “Run!”  Tyler shouts, and the next moment we’re dashing towards the nearest shelter, bags quickly shrugged off and carried over our heads to ward off the ice-cold downpour that has chosen the most inopportune moment to besiege us.  

     “There are trees!”  I shriek out over the suddenly intensifying rain, visibility effectively reduced to about fifty yards.  

      “It’s winter!  There are no leaves!”  He yells back, and I barely hear him through the onslaught of water we’re both sprinting through.

      Maybe because the rain made the path slippery, maybe because I’m Lindsey Stirling, but I trip and instinctively grab onto his shoulder to prevent myself from falling.  

      And maybe because he’s running through grass at the time, or maybe because he’s Tyler Nakamura, I pull him backwards and he slips, too.

     And because I’m scared out of my mind, I pull him down and back at a very fast velocity and he hits the ground first.  And I land on top of him, all in a second.

      “It’s a really good thing you’re so light, Linds.”  He gasps out, and I realize that he’s caught me, at the cost of hitting the soaked grass back-first.  And I realize that I’m still smothering him, and I get up just a little enough to where I can see his face, and he’s looking at me and his eyes are sparkling and my heart is fluttering in my chest and I should be afraid that maybe he can hear my heart pounding but I’m far too entranced by the rain sliding down his face-

      “I know you enjoy the view, but you’re crushing my ribs...”  Squeaking out a rushed apology in embarrassment, I snap out of my reverie and ease my weight off him, letting him get to his feet.  The water slides in sheets off the back of his jacket as he stands and offers his hand to me. 

      “Come on, we’re almost there.”  I nod numbly, cheeks flaming red, and pull myself up, but I don’t drop his hand and he doesn’t tell me to.  Instead, he tugs on my hand and we both run towards the nearest overhang, abandoned and empty.  

      It’s cold, my head hurts, and I’m drenched to the bone, but Tyler’s hand is warm and bright in my own and I secretly wish I didn’t have to ever let go.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**

Omake

Tyler:    She ruined my jacket.

Lindsey:   Who’s more important?  Me, or the stupid jacket?

Tyler:  But I liked the jacket...

Lindsey:  I see how it is!  *runs off*

Tyler:  What?  What'd I do?


	5. Violinist

...The first time she surprises him...

**  
  
**

    “Where are you taking me now?”  Lindsey’s leading me to a part of the university that I’ve never been to, through a different part of the stone path where we talked last week.  

     “My second home.”  She replies, somehow managing to tell me absolutely nothing with what would normally be a perfectly satisfactory answer.  

     “Why so cryptic?”  I ask, and she shrugs.

     “When I get there, I won’t need to speak.”  The brunette’s holding a weird case which she swings along merrily.  If I had to guess, I’d say it was some sort of instrument case; though since I’m not familiar with music, I wouldn’t know what to guess.

      “You know, that really doesn’t tell me anything.”  I say, sighing internally, and she laughs.  

      “This-”, she pats her case, “Will tell you everything the second I take it out.”  Ooh, now I’m really curious.  

      “Does it really talk?”  I ask curiously, before realizing how stupid my question sounded.

      “That’s honestly something only you can decide.”  Lindsey replies, giving me a sideways glance.   

      “...Could you at least tell me what’s in the case?”

      “Just give it a few more minutes.”  

      “...”

      “...”

     “...Now?”  

     “We’re here.”  Lindsey announces, coming to a halt in the middle of a small, grassy clearing.

     “What’s in the case?”  The words bubble out of me excitedly - after being strung along for so long, my curiosity is burning and I need to know!

     “This.”  I almost whack her head at the generic answer but stop when the brunette unzips the case.  

     “Is that a violin?  A classical instrument, right?”  I thought I was right, but Lindsey looks somewhat offended at the thought.  

     “Tch, too limited.”  She responds, taking out some kind of pad or hold and settling it on her shoulder.  

     “I suppose you’re going to play some sort of electronic dance music, then.”  I sniff sarcastically.  In response, she just grins and closes her eyes.

     “Why don’t we find out?”  She says simply, settling the violin on her shoulder with one hand.  The stick in her hand slides across the strings of the instrument.

     And for the first time in countless months, I am rendered speechless.  Transfixed by the song she plays - a song so clearly, obviously Lindsey.  Bright and free, screaming “This is who I am.”

     

     “What is that song called?”  I ask, when the last note has faded away into the crisp winter air.

     “Spontaneous Me.”  The blue-eyed girl responds.  

     “It’s fitting.”  I admit, as she opens her eyes to gauge my reaction.  “It sounds like you.”

      “Did you like it?”  She questions hesitantly, looking relieved when I nod.  

      “You surprised me with that.”  I remark, not breaking eye contact.  She smiles slowly, again, pearly-white teeth glittering from the short distance separating us.

      “Normally I dance when I play.”  Lindsey says, smirking.

      “You jest.”  I respond.  “That’s not possible.  Not with that movement.”

       In response, she just tilts her head innocently.  “Why don’t we find out?”

       And for the second time in as many minutes, I am stunned speechless.

 

 

 

 

 

Omake

Tyler:   I was not stunned speechless.  I was just admiring the song quietly.

Lindsey:  Whatever you say.  *grins sadistically*

Tyler:  Um...


	6. Carnival Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Date. This is the biggest chapter currently.

...The first time they go on a date...

**  
  
**

      “You know, I look back on that moment now, and I laugh.  But back then, I wanted to shove you right back.”  I say thoughtfully, recalling the time Lindsey ran into me in the parking lot.

      “You’re terrible.”  She says, kicking me lightly as she pores over her Physics textbook.  We’re sitting in the library, more or less alone.

      It’s been three months since we met in the parking lot and nothing’s changed, more or less.  Except for one thing.  Somewhere along the line, I fell for the pretty violinist, and I don’t know when.  I don’t know where.  I don’t know how.

       But I do know why.

       “Linds?” I say quietly, conscious of the librarian moving around the aisles.

       “Hmm?”

        “Are you...”  I swallow and look up, “Are you free Saturday night?  There’s something I want to show you.”  

        “Y-Yes.”  I can tell by the shock and hesitance in her voice that she recognizes my question for what it really is.

        “Come dressed in winter clothes and some sort of long pants.  Oh, and socks.  Socks are nice.”

       “Hey, Lindsey.  Shall we?”  The brunette in question steps out of the taxi with me.  “Um, sure.  I think.  Hehe...”  She’s wearing her black, hooded school sweater with a simple cyan blue T-shirt underneath, and black leggings with an intricate crystal piece affixed to her collar.  A plain white scarf is wrapped around her neck.

    “You look nice.”  I say simply, and she shrugs nonchalantly.  “This was more or less the best I had, so...”  She looks down at her clothes.  “Just making do.  You look nice, too.”  I’m dressed in my school uniform, though I swapped out my standard slacks for blue jeans.  My school bag is slung around my shoulder.

     The taxi dropped us off at the end of the city’s popular boardwalk, though I do not intend on traversing it until much later.  Shops and attractions line the shore, facing out towards the ocean.  There’s something else I wanted to show Lindsey, something I think is much...cooler.

     “...I like my school uniform better.”  I reply, looking at my pants.  “Black’s my color.”  Lindsey laughs, still looking around.  

     “Will it still be your color in summer?”  She asks teasingly, and I shake my head.

     “I’ll just wear dark grey.”  I respond, catching sight of the nearby evergreen forests.  “Alright, there.  Let’s go.”  I start walking, at a fairly brisk pace, and she trails behind me.  For a few minutes, we walk in silence.  Snow begins to fall, but at a very slow and gentle pace, and I suspect that she’s trying and failing to collect snow for a snowball to throw at my head.

     “Do you know where you’re going?”  The brunette kicks around the crystallized water on the ground.  Well, I’m assuming she’s kicking it, because I can feel it splattering against the back of my legs.

     “Of course I do.  Wait-”  I spin around.  “Just so we’re clear, I’m not taking you into the forest to kidnap you, or like anything along those lines.  Okay?  Okay.  Look, there’s a path here.  Kind of.  And we’re not-”

     “I trust you.”  She cuts in, smiling slightly.  

     “Oh.  Okay then.”  I say awkwardly, and I can hear her giggles as I turn back around to continue walking.  

     “...Though I must say, your choice of location could lead to that conclusion...”  I sigh.

     “We’re almost there, just a few more minutes.”  

     “...Are we there yet?”  I whirl around in time to see her burst into giggles.  I squat down as my hand brushes the ground to scoop up some snow, which is immediately flung at her head.

     “Heyyy!  No!  Awwwww...”  Lindsey shrieks, voice trailing down as she looks down at the powdered ice on her clothes.  “Meanie...”  I just shake my head and turn around.

     “Revenge will be swift.”  The violinist promises me, eliciting an eyeroll from me, though she can’t see it.  I just snort.  We continue walking for a few minutes in silence, in which time I have dodged three snowballs, the last of which was 5 inches in diameter.  Each miss is punctuated by a furious stomp on the packed ground as the girl slowly gets more and more irritated at her inability to hit me.

      “How are you doing that?”  She asks finally, and the smirk on my face that has only grown more pronounced every minute widens.  

      “Because I’m awesome like that.”

      “Or because you’re a cheater.”  I glance behind me in time to dodge a fourth snowball.  

      “Hey, we’re here.”  I say blandly, which serves its purpose of freezing her in her rush to pack a fifth snowball.

      “Huh?”

      “Oh, nevermind, two more minutes.”  Her snowball throwing intensifies, particularly after I reach down and pick up a second handful of snow which serves to irritate her further.

      “I can’t help it, you’re so much fun to tease.”  Her soaked sweater is hurled at me, which I catch in one hand without looking.  

      “Jerk.”  She says huffily, running up to walk with me.  I shake the snow out of her sweater and squeeze some of the accumulated moisture out while we walk.

      “Woah.”  Lindsey says, then;  “Is this a lake?”  We’ve reached a small clearing where, about seven feet below us, a natural ice rink lies.  A thick snowbank provides a slant down towards the ice.

      “Yeah. About thirty yards in diameter at its thickest point.  This is a dead lake.”  I recite, facts I’ve known since I was seven.

       “A dead lake?”

       “Every winter, the whole lake freezes over and preserves everything inside.  Of course, everything dies upon thawing, which is why it’s called a dead lake.  But it makes a perfect ice-skating rink while it’s iced over.  This only happens in late winter because the time needed for the entire lake to freeze...it takes a while, anyways.  But even then, this is a rare occurrence.  Normally, the sheer volume of water in a lake would make it impossible to completely freeze, but this lake is different in the sense that it is actually only about three feet deep, maximum.  It’s a completely safe, natural ice rink - even if you fell in you could literally wade your way out of the ice.”

      “...So I take it you’ve been here before.”  She finally says, processing my explanation.  

      “More than a few times, yes.”  I drop the bag to the ground and kneel down to unzip it.  “I figured I should bring you here.”

      “Wait, so you know how to ice-skate, but you’ve never had ice cream?”  She asks.  I can detect a tinge of nervousness in her voice.  Interesting...

       “I don’t make a habit of eating the stuff I walk on, Linds.”  I retort with a crooked smile.  

       “It’s kind of cold now.”  Lindsey ignores my jab, hiking her scarf up.

      “Then I guess we should get you moving.” I pull out two pairs of ice skates.  “Here, put these on.”

     “B-But I’ve never-Eek!”  Her voice turns shrill as I push her down onto the snow and grab her foot to work off her shoe.

     “I know.”  I say, grinning.  “But you’ve gone roller-skating, and it’s not terribly different.”  She struggles to get back up, but she finds that it’s hard to regain your feet when one of your ankles is trapped in an iron grip.  

     “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that!”  She stops struggling when I slide my finger across the sole of her socked foot, ready to initiate a tickle fight.

     “Ah ah ah.  Remember who’s in the position of power here.”  I threaten, sliding the first of her skates on.  “It fits.  Right?”  She nods.

      “H-How do you even know my shoe size?”  She asks, a little breathlessly.

       “We’ve been close friends for three months, Linds.  I’ve taken it upon myself to know your shoe size.”  I lace up her skate and tighten the knot.  “Besides, you’ve kicked me countless times in our friendship.  It’d practically be a sin not to know your foot size.”  A final pull finishes the knot and I move to take off her second shoe.

       “I’ve never gone ice-skating, Tyler.”  She says, anxiety coloring her words.  I shrug indifferently.

       “You will be today.”  On goes her second shoe.  “It’s not that hard.”  I lace it up.  “You’re able to dance, and you’ve roller-skated multiple times; this is something you can do.”  My fingers make the intricate knot.  “Besides, I respect your intelligence and physical ability enough to where, even if you weren’t capable of the footwork needed to effectively dance...I still would have taken you here.  You’re a quick study.”  A pull marks my last word and the knot settles.  

      “But...”

      “No buts, Lindsey.  You’re going to learn how to ice skate.”  I take out my own skates, shoes already slipped off.  “Or die trying.”  I say brightly, to which she shudders.

     “Now you’re just being creepy.”  

     “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?  You, even for a moment, totally forgot about your fear of ice skating.”  

     “To be replaced with the thought of dying before I turn twenty-two?  It’s a rational fear!”  I just laugh.

     “It’s an irrational fear, because you’re not dying today. And hopefully not for a very long time.”  I say, half reassuringly, half mockingly.  

      “Are you a vampire?”  She asks seriously.  I stare blankly at her.  “I have no problems with staying twenty-one forever and not being prone to death by tragic ice skating accident, so if you can turn me immortal, please do.”

     “...Do I look like a vampire to you?”  I ask, equally seriously, to which she nods.  “Oh, whatever, you.”  

     “It’s a plausibl-”

    “It’s as rational as your fear of death by tragic ice skating accident.”  I interrupt, finishing up the knot on my second skate.  “Which is to say, not at all rational whatsoever.”  I take out a simple disposable camera, hiding it from her view.

     “...You never know...”  She mutters lowly.  I stand up, slipping the camera into my jacket pocket, and help her to her feet.

     “I kind of do.”  I say, smiling slightly.  Letting go of her hand, I walk down the snowbank, slowly enough for her to totter behind me awkwardly in her skates.  “Is it too tight or too loose?”

     “No, just wobbly.”  She wiggles her feet for emphasis.  “Good.”  I step onto the ice, expecting her to follow, but she doesn’t.  

     “Lindsey...”  The brunette shakes her head furiously.  “I’m not going.”  

     “If you don’t walk on, I’ll push you on.”  I step closer to her.  

     “Nope.”  Now I’m on the snow shore.

     “Tyler, if you even think about it, I’ll-”  I shove her sprawling towards the ice, but not hard enough to make her trip.  That would be mean.  Instead, she stumbles on the glass, but manages to keep her balance by waving her arms frantically.

     “Tyler!”  She shrieks, as I run forward to slide happily on the ice around her.  “You haven’t fallen yet?  Look at you, you’re a natural.”  I say, laughing as she lunges forward and clasps her hands around me.

    “For a dancing violinist and a rollerskater, I would’ve thought you would have better balance.”  I joke, slowly, keeping us both steady.

    “You-”  She’s flustered, holding on tightly to my arm, her grip probably strong enough to bruise.

    “Oh, relax.  That’s the first trick to this.”  I hold Lindsey tightly to me and slowly twirl around, pulling her with me.  “Just stay calm.”  She stares at me with wide eyes.  “Stay calm.”

     “I-It’s hard to stay calm when you feel like your legs could be swept out from under you at any second.”  She says breathlessly, and I laugh.  “I can do that.  Want to-”

     “NO!”  Lindsey shrieks, wrapping her arms around me and clutching me closer to herself as I teasingly tap the inside of her skates with my foot.  “You have to unlock your knees, Lindsey, I can’t pull you along forever.”  

     “I’m okay.  This is fine.”  She says, a bit sarcastically, but I notice that the anxiety coloring her voice has disappeared.  Slowly, she adjusts her footing so that she can support her weight, but she doesn’t let go of me.  I can feel her face buried into the crook of my neck, and the icy sensation of her cold breath.

      “I’m scared.”  The violinist admits, relaxing as I return her embrace.

      “Of what?”  

      “Falling.”  

       “Then you just get back up.”  I whisper, squeezing her once before letting her go.  She looks up, a blush dancing along her cheeks.  “To move forward, just kick off with your feet.”  Hesitatingly, she lets go of me to stand on her own feet.  “Just like roller-blading.”  I push off with the toes of my right foot to accelerate slowly, carving an invisible line in the ice.  “Now you try.”

      “O-Okay...”  Experimentally, Lindsey kicks her foot and is rewarded with slight forward momentum.  

      “Don’t just smash the ice, try to pull yourself forward, drag your foot more at first.”  I instruct, skating around her slowly and poised to catch her if she falls.  She doesn’t.  With every step forward confidence continues to flood her movements until she runs across the ice and kicks off, leaving me behind.      

     “You knew how to skate the entire time!”  I accuse, and she wildly shakes her head.  

     “No I didn’t!  Still learning!  How do I TURN?!”  Her speed has carried her across the rink and she is now heading for a wall.  I linger back.  

     “It’s not rocket science!  Just point the front of your skates to where you want to go!”  Deciding that it might be dangerous if she panics, especially because I haven’t broken her into falling safely yet, I break off into a sprint and catch up to her side within seconds.  A wasted effort, as it turns out.

    “See, you’ve got it!”  She hasn’t face-planted into the opposite snowbank yet, and she’s managed to keep her balance.  Her momentum slowly winds down and she does a wide, slow turn that brings her to face me.

    “Huh.  I did it.”  Lindsey says, sounding completely surprised.  I laugh at her shocked expression.  

    “What’s so funny?”  She says, petulantly, which of course just makes me laugh harder.  

    “Well, race you to the other side.  Yup.  Bye.”  And she takes off, and for a moment I’m too stunned to react.

    “I didn’t teach her how to stop...!”  I dash after the girl.  My swift and precise strokes allow me to catch up to her within short moments, where I find that she’s already panicking.

    “Um, Tyler, how do I stop?”  There’s no way I can teach her how to effectively stop before she runs into the snowbank.  And while it wouldn’t hurt, it would be bad for her confidence, especially considering all the work it took just to get her on the ice.  So in the few seconds left, I come up with a new plan.

      “Gotcha.”  I say before the breath is forced out of my lungs as she slams into me.  The idea was to totally stop her in place, but ice is slippery - duh - and her momentum forces me backwards and I trip, expecting a painful landing.

      Whump.

      “Tyler?  Are you okay?”  The confused and concerned voice of my friend snaps me out of the pain in my back - probably a stick digging into it - and I open my eyes to meet her own staring at me.  

       “Ribs.”  I gasp out, and she rolls off of me, apologizing off the while.  Once I regain my breath, I turn to Lindsey, who is still rambling on about how she should’ve watched where she was going or something stupid like that and I just hush her instead and say, “That was my fault, I should’ve taught you how to stop first.”

      And then I sit up, so I can look at her beautiful blushing face properly in time for her to wrap her arms around me and bury her face into my shoulder.

      “Thank you, Tyler.  But....if you don’t mind...?”  Lindsey looks up, joy on her face.  “Let’s do that again!”  

      “...And this time, teach me how to stop before I crash.”  She adds, as an afterthought.

**  
  
**

     We emerge from the clearing with a few new bruises apiece.  

     More importantly, Lindsey knows how to ice skate, even if she is...ah...excessively violent doing so.  

     “You didn’t have to tackle me on your way down.”  I whine, nursing a red mark on my arm.  

     “You tripped me.”  She responds unrepentantly, rubbing a light bruise on her cheek where she hit the ice face-first.  We reach my bag where we work on slipping off our skates, a peaceful silence between us.  

      “Hey, Tyler?”  Lindsey asks sweetly?

      “Yeah?”  I turn around, and promptly get beaned in the face by a snowball.

       “Tag, you’re it.”  She says, giggling, before running off to hide in the trees to escape as I quickly start packing my own snowball.

 

      “I’ll get you!”  I threaten, hunting down Lindsey, who is surprisingly adept at hiding.   I’ve only caught sight of her twice, and both times she had already turned tail after whipping a snowball at me.  I haven’t been caught off-guard twice, though, and I’ve remained snow-free for the most part.

     My eyes trace the outline of the trees for even the faintest sign of her blue shirt.  My ears strain to find even the quietest footstep.  This has easily been the most focused I’ve been in months, but what’s irritating is the fact that I can’t find her!  Even with all this work!  Where is she?

     I spin around and throw my snowball behind me into what is, at first, apparently nothing.

     “Ow!”  

     Victory!  I run in the direction of the shout, but pause, when, after a few seconds of running, I don’t see Lindsey.  Not even a trace.

     “...Lindsey?”  I whisper experimentally, a bit confused and a little bit worried.

     “Behind you.”  I whirl around for the second time in as many minutes and am greeted with a flying tackle that sends me sprawling onto the snowy ground.  

     “Mmmmmph!”  I’d like to say get off - amongst a few other choice and censored words - but the brunette is too busy pressing handfuls of snow into my face and sitting on my chest to pin me down.

     “I win!”  She says, cheering, shortly before I buck my hips and toss her off and scrape the snow off my face.

     “Um...Ehehe...”  Lindsey slowly backs up as I glare at her.  “...Catch!”  She shrieks, throwing a snowball at my face before trying to get away.

     Trying, because I lunge at her and trap her ankle, pulling her back and tripping her so that she falls into the snow.  I sit on her stomach and grin at her triumphantly.

     Then I proceed to mash snow into every single crevice of her body, because what’s life without a little sweet revenge here and there?

     “...You’re mean.”  The violinist lying at my side mutters, shivering.  I’m nice and toasty covered in my own jacket and her captured sweater while the poor girl shakes the snow out of her hair.

     “...You don’t ever mess with the Tyler, Linds.”  I respond simply, sitting up happily and stretching.  

     “Can I at least have my sweater?”  She asks plaintively.  

     “Nope.”  I say, with more than a little satisfaction.  

     “...Meanie.”  She says, sniffling, and I take pity on her like the kind, compassionate, generous person I am and return her sweater, which she immediately wraps around her like a safety blanket.

     “So cute.”  I whisper, chuckling as she blushes and looks away.  

     “Y-You’re still a jerk.”  Lindsey replies, stuttering slightly.

     “Really?  Return the sweater, then.”  I say cheerfully, reaching out to pull the sweater back.

      “No!  Mine!”  She jumps up and sprints away.  I sweatdrop, standing up to chase after her again.

      “Um...Tyler.”  Lindsey trots back into the clearing we’re positioned in.  “Where’s the exit?”

      “I don’t know.”  I say simply.  Her eyes widen, to my amusement.

      “Wait.  What?  Do you have your phone?  We could use our GPS tracking...”

      “Of course I don’t have my phone with me.  Why would I bring it?  Where’s yours?”  I demand, successfully redirecting her line of questioning.

       “Well...ah...I didn’t bring it with me.  I thought if something came up, I could rely on you to take care of it and let me use your phone if I had to...?”  She admits, stumbling over her words.  

       “See!  This is your fault.”  I accuse, laughing internally.

       “You brought us out here!  She shrieks, kicking snow at me.  

       “Well, we’re both lost, so do something about it.”  I say simply, walking over to the nearest tree to sit down, resting my back against it.  My eyes train themselves upon an object firmly in the distance.

       “What are you going to do?”  Lindsey asks, a bit timidly.  

       “Take a nap.”  I say blankly.

       “But-”

       “I have no aversions to cold and I’m dressed for it.  I’ll be fine sleeping out here.  You’re not-”  I motion to her pants, “As well-dressed, and you need to find your way out here.  But, hey, what do you know, we’re far enough in the forest to where you can’t even hear the surrounding noise.  Hope you know your astronomy.”  I yawn and close my eyes.  It’s a few minutes before I hear her start moving.

       “Tyler...Are you really sleeping?”  A pause.  “Ugh.  Well...I guess I could make a compass.  We’re on the west coast...so I need to travel up and east...A needle.  I don’t have a needle...Maybe...”  I hear her whisper out loud.  It takes me all of my focus and willpower not to break up in laughter.  

     I freeze when I feel Lindsey move closer, her hand ghosting against my hip.  “Oh, this is so awkward.  But...I do need something metal...”  Her fingers inch into my pocket, and I can feel her cold breath on my face.

     “Isn’t this...?”  Her hand taps against my phone and I know the prank is up.

     “Boo.”  I whisper, and she shrieks and jumps back, landing in the snow.  

     “TYLER!  Y-You...!”  I put a finger on her lips and point to the horizon.

      “What...?  What is it?  Oh...”  Lindsey trails off as I shake my head.

      Directly above us, shining bright in the sky, is the giant Ferris Wheel, one of the boardwalk's attractions and glaringly obvious.

      ...Or so you would think.

      “I found the way out!”  She announces proudly.

      “...Idiot...”

           

      “Hey, look!  Tyler!  Carnival games!”  Lindsey squeals, pointing excitedly at the attractions.  “Look at that panda!  I want that panda!”  I look in the direction she’s pointing.

       We’re walking down the boardwalk now, having ‘escaped’ the forest, and Lindsey, well, she wants the giant panda.

      “You realize these games are set up for you to fail, right?”  I point out, shaking my head at the game Lindsey picked out.  Classic arcade game with three stacked milk bottles in a two-dimensional pyramid, one baseball, knock them off the small platform.  “The bottles are weighted.”  

       “Well, people still do it, so I can too.”  The violinist replies stubbornly, leaving me to shrug.  “It’s your money.”  She hands a dollar to the male carny, who glances at her, then at me, then shrugs.  

       I watch Lindsey glare at the stand before taking aim and hurling the ball.  To her credit, she hits what looks like the best spot - directly in the center of all three bottles.  And all three bottles are hit, hard.  And they should fall off, even with their weight.

       But her ball bounces after slamming into the bottles rather than driving through.  Two bottles fall, and only one rolls off the platform.  And all three need to be knocked off the platform.  She groans in complaint.

       “Sorry, young miss.  Better luck next time.”  He levels his gaze on me.  “Or maybe the young man wants to try?”  I frown.  It’s just an attempt to get me to spend more money, baiting me into trying again and again and again on a near-impossible scam in an ultimately futile attempt to get the girl a prize...

       “Please, Tyler?”  Lindsey begs, tugging on my sleeve.  Of course Lindsey jumps right into it, and...well, I guess it’s just a few dollars...that will turn quickly into ten...twenty...

        “One time only.”  I say stiffly, taking my wallet out of my pocket.  “But...”  I kick her lightly.  “One time.  And if I don’t do it, then I’ll buy you a giant panda.”  

       “...But it’s not as special.”  She whines.  I shrug.  

       “Then I’ll just be sure to get it on the first try.”  I say simply.  The dollar bill is in my hand, but not extended to the attendant, who stares at me curiously.

        “Well?  Aren’t you going to take your shot?”  He asks impatiently, and I shake my head.  “After I watch someone else take an attempt.”  I have a theory...

       A young couple walks over, in nearly the exact same manner that Lindsey and I did.  The male hands over a dollar bill as Lindsey and I move to the side of the attraction stand.  The redheaded female of the pair moves off to to the side while I stare at the fallen bottles contemplatively.  I watch the carny set up the bottles.  There are two red rings on the stand where the bottom two bottles go.  He places the first milk bottle on the stand, lining it up perfectly.  The second bottle...

       I stare at the bottle he pushes onto the painted circle.  

       ...No.

       It’s not on the ring.  It’s not precisely placed how the first bottle is.  In fact, this one...is just a little farther ahead.  The distance is so minor, you wouldn’t even notice it, unless you’re looking specifically for something specifically like this.

       The third bottle is carefully stacked on the bottle, lined up with the first bottle and oh-so-slightly behind the second one on the bottom.  Why?  Why is it set up like that?

       Physics.  Psychology.  

       Psychology.

       Where’s the best place to throw the ball?  

       The center of the stack, right?  Hit all three with force and they should all fall down.  That’s what most people would aim for.  But you lose a lot of force when it comes to the bottom pins, since, after all, the cans are not perfect cylinders.  They taper off at the top, and you hit significantly less surface area.  

      So really, you’d aim for the bottom center of the stack.  Or should, anyways.  Take out the base and everything comes crashing down.  But...then why doesn’t anyone who looks at it twice win the game?

      There must be another trick to this.  And I think I’ve found it in the placement of the milk bottles.

      “I have a theory.”  I whisper to Lindsey.  She looks at me confusedly.  “I can’t tell you yet.  I need them-”  I motion at the man about to throw his ball, “-to be my testing rats.”  

     “I take offense to that.”  The stranger’s girlfriend interjects.  

     “Would you feel better if I called you my lab assistants?”  I respond.  She shrugs.  Her boyfriend throws the ball and nicks the bottom left pin.

     “I think I missed.”  He says, handing another dollar to the carny.  The attendant fixes the nicked pin but doesn’t change anything else.

     “Did that prove your theory?”  Lindsey questions.  

     “Probably not, unless he got something from that awful throw.”  The other girl stage-whispers, earning a playful scowl from her significant other.  “Hey, you know it’s true!  You throw like a sissy!”  Another scowl.

     “I wish we could be cool like that.”  Lindsey murmurs to me.  “She just insulted his masculinity in front of total strangers and he was totally okay with it.”

     “So if I insult you in front of total strangers you’ll be okay with it?”  I retort.

     “...I don’t think we’re ever going to be cool like that.”  The brunette says, frowning.  

     “I like you guys.”  The redhead remarks.

     “We like you too.”  I reply simply, and she grins.  

     The three of us watch her boyfriend miss again.  This time, the baseball goes bouncing off the stand.  

     “Definitely entertaining.”  I say, and she laughs, sticking out her hand.  

     “Hi, my name’s Anna.”  She retracts her hand.  “Geez, girl, I’m taken already!  Don’t bite my hand off.”  I turn, surprised, to see Lindsey glaring at the redhead.

     “Since when do you have a possessive streak?”  I ask, startled.  

     “You’re my boyfriend.”  Lindsey says, petulantly.  

     “...You can’t discriminate against all of my friends of the female gender.  I think that’s sexism.”  

     “...............”

     “Can I shake the nice lady’s hand?”  

     “No.”  

     Her boyfriend storms out of the stand, exasperated.   

     “You’re a terrible boyfriend.”  Anna tells her counterpart.  

     “You’re an equally terrible girlfriend.”  The brown-haired male replies, patting the shorter girl on the hair.  She pouts before accepting a short kiss.

     “See, look at them.  They’ve had an argument and made up already, and you’re still pouting in the corner.”  I say to Lindsey.

     “Your girlfriend didn’t try to shake some random guy’s hand yet.”  

     “Do you know how creepy it is to hear you referencing yourself in the third person?  And they’re hardly random; we even know half their names!” I argue.

      “Derek.”  The brunette male offers, earning a fierce glare from the young violinist next to me.  

      “If you don’t forgive me then I won’t get you the giant panda.”  I threaten.

      “Meanie...”   Lindsey mutters under her breath.

      I turn to the other young couple.  “She just forgave me.”  

       “Wow.”  Derek remarks.  “I just learned how to deal with my girlfriend when she pouts and threatens all my female friends, and it wasn’t even violent.”  

      “You have female friends?”  Anna growls, turning towards Derek, who hastily tries to retract his words.

       “It’s fun watching you argue, but my girlfriend wants a giant panda doll.”  I say simply.  “She’ll probably break up with me if I don’t retain my masculinity.”  

       “Wow.  I guess you better win, then.  Can we watch?”  Anna asks eagerly.  

       “Hell yeah.  I want a giant panda doll, too.”  Derek says.  We all look at him oddly.  “What?”        

      “Does he even have masculinity points?”  I wonder out loud to Anna, who shakes her head.  “Unless you count negative points, he doesn’t.”          

      “Ouch.”  Lindsey comments.  

      “But they’re all cute and cuddly...”  Derek trails off when Anna punches him in the shoulder.  “You’re supposed to at least pretend that you wear the pants in this relationship.”  

      “Right, giant panda doll.”  I interject, walking back into the stand with my dollar.  The carny brightens visibly upon my entrance.

      “Come one, come all-”  I cut him off with a question.

      “Can you confirm with me, what exactly are the rules in this?  I will hold you to these.”  I say, taking out my phone and activate the voice recorder app, flashing him the screen.  

      “...Well, all you have to do is knock over all three of the bottles off the platform with one throw of this baseball.  At no times can you cross over the white line on the desk with any part of your body, or with anything other than the baseball provided, or you will be disqualified from the game.  Only one person can be playing at a time, and no leaving the stand.   At most you can get one prize, per day, per person.  That’s all there is to it.”  I think over his words carefully.  

   “Okay.  Take the dollar.”  I hand over the money and get a worn baseball in return.  Then I pop on the ground and take out my phone to type a quick message.

    “Come here, Linds.”  I call out.  She walks over to the front.  “Don’t come in.”  Pause.  “Read this-”  I point the screen at her, “-and do it.”  The violinist reads the message throughly before going outside, sitting on the outside of the stand, a fair distance away, before rejoining the conversation between Derek and Anna, the latter asking Lindsey for funny stories of me.

    “Are you cheating?”  The carny asks me suspiciously, and I only smile, putting the phone back in my pocket.  “I didn’t break any of the rules you set me.”  

    “I tried to tell him it was the LEFT side, but noooo.  He insisted on the other side.”  Lindsey says, voice rising in obvious irritation as she tells her story to her enraptured audience.

    “Really?  Then what?”  I tune their voices out.  With the carny staring at me, I take one precise, small step to the right.

    “Hey!  You-”  I cut him off with a cheerful smile.

    “I’m still in the stand.  I’m just approaching it from a different angle.”  I claim innocently, before taking aim and whipping the baseball eight feet - the distance between myself and my target.

    The ball drills right through the weighted bottles, sending them all crashing to the ground.  The carny wails in protest as he ducks the ricochet of the baseball.

     “You cheated!  You cheated!  Why you-”

     “I didn’t cheat.  I followed every single rule you gave me.  All the bottles were knocked off the platform, using your baseball given to me.  I only took one throw.  I never crossed the white line, and no one entered the stand.  I didn’t break any rules, so give me my prize or I will have a long, in-depth conversation with your manager.”  I say, all traces of amusement gone.

     The carny throws the large toy at me more than a bit angrily - no matter, as I snatch it out of the air and hand it to my exuberant girlfriend.  

      “That was amazing!”  Lindsey says, all traces of her former irritation gone.  “How did you...I don’t understand.  What happened?”  

      Anna bounces up to me with questions of her own.  “Why did you tell Lindsey to study the bottles?  Why’d she raise her volume so much?  How’d you do that?  Why are you so much cooler than Derek?”

     “Hey!”  Derek protests.  We ignore him.

     “You can’t have him!  He’s my cool boyfriend!”  Lindsey interjects, hugging her giant panda doll.  

     “...You weren’t saying that a few minutes earlier.”  Derek comments helpfully.

     “Now that we’ve all stopped beating on Derek...”  I say, bored.  “Hey, Derek, want to get a giant panda doll for Anna?”  

     We say goodbye to them a few minutes later, Anna and Lindsey left totally in the dark about what happened.  I’m starting to suspect they didn’t really care, though.

     “Tyler I can understand, because he’s cool, but Derek?  How did Derek do it?”  Anna asks inquisitively.

     “Harsh...I’m right here...”  Derek says weakly.

     “You guys have a terrible relationship.”  Lindsey says firmly.  “I suggest a marriage counselor.”  

     “What she’s trying to say is that you should tell all your relationship stories to her so she can have a good laugh later on.”   I translate for the clueless couple.  

     “You’re a terrible boyfriend.”  Lindsey glares at me, then apparently thinks better of it as she backs away slowly while protectively holding her panda to her chest.

     “Do you ever feel-”  I ask Derek, “-worried that one day your girlfriend will replaced you with a stuffed doll?”   

     The brunette glances at his own girlfriend, who is gently cooing at her own prize.  “...You know, I think I’m going to regret it when she kicks me out of the bed tonight to make room for her panda.”  

     “My girlfriend is too weak to kick me out of the bed.”  A kick to the shin has me hastily revising this conclusion.

      “Well, we do need to go, so...well, see you.”  Derek and I shake hands.  I glance at Lindsey before hugging Anna briefly.

      The second I let go of the redhead, I am hit upside the head with a giant stuffed panda.  

      “I think that’s animal abuse.”  Anna comments thoughtfully as I sigh.

       “...Definitely regretting getting you the panda.”  

       “There’s a Ferris Wheel.”  Lindsey says, walking down the boardwalk with me after another hour of running around and viewing the sights.

       “So there is.”  I reply, taking delight in offering short, unhelpful answers in order to exasperate my girlfriend.  Because she’s really cute when she tries to be angry at me.

       “...You’re supposed to offer to take me on it, because it’s a romantic thing to do.”  The brunette says, throwing her hands up in the air.

      “...Is there like a list you read from to get your crazy ideas on romance?”  

      “No!”  

      “I swear, you only get more idealistic with every generation.”  I say thoughtfully, considering the differences in behavior between older and younger women.

      “We’re supposed to have beautiful dreams of hot guys taking us out on romantic dates until we have that one bad boyfriend who just ruins everything.”  She retorts stubbornly.  “And no, you can’t take back my panda.  I already named it.”  

      “What did you name it?”  I ask, genuinely curious.

      “The Good Boyfriend.”  She responds, giving me a cutesy grin.

      “...I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

      “Yup.  And now you’re walking right onto the Ferris Wheel with me.”  She drags me up the stairs (not literally, but she probably could if she got worked up enough), slaps money on the ticket stand in front of a bewildered ticketmaster, and walks off into an empty carriage, still dragging myself and her stupid fluffy panda.  

       “Aren’t you scared of the carriage falling?”  I ask pensively as the Ferris Wheel lurches into action.  No one boarded our carriage, so we’re stuck alone.  I’m sitting in the middle as I feel it’s the safest spot to sit, and Lindsey was going to occupy one of the chairs at the ends of the carriage but ran back to me when the box tilted scarily, so now we’re sitting together on one of the middle benches.

       “Don’t ruin my beautiful dreams!”  Lindsey shrieks, burying her face in her panda doll.

       “Did you stop being curious about how I managed to win that bottle arcade game?”  I ask.

       “No, but...it’s probably too science-y for me to follow, so...”  She admits, grinning at my bemused face.

       “You don’t want to know the origins of the thing you’re holding?”  I say, mock surprised.

      “It’s The Good Boyfriend!  Not the thing!”  Lindsey squeals, holding the panda tightly.  

      “Whatever.”  

       An awkward silence ensures temporarily as she comforts her panda thing.

       “So did you want to know how I did it?”  Lindsey looks confused.  “Bottle game.”

       “Too science-y.”   

       “Did you forget you were a physics student?”  I wonder out loud.  “Amnesia?”

        “Okay, fine, fine, tell me.  Amaze me with your brilliance.”  She says sarcastically, but I can read the full-blown curiosity in her sapphire eyes and it’s enough for me to continue.

       “I first began formulating a theory when I watched you throw the ball.  You actually picked a terrible spot to aim at.”  I can tell she wants to argue, but would much rather hear the explanation.  “But what got my attention was that, despite slamming the ball down the middle, you only really got a good hit on one bottle.  You still should have hit two or three off with the power you put into it.”

       “When he was setting up the bottles, I noticed that there were actually rings that act as guidelines on the stand for the carny to put the milk cans on.  At least, that’s what I thought they were for.  And they were, kind of.  But the way he did it, he would always put one of the bottom cans just a little bit more forward than the other one.”

       “So?”  Lindsey interjects.

       “When you throw the ball, the best place to aim is at the bottom two bottles; if you take out the base, you also knock down the top bottle and it should roll off on its own from the drop’s momentum.  If you’re aiming there and everything is perfectly aligned like they should, you’ll hit both bottles with near-equal force and have the power to knock them both off, which, in turn, brings down the top bottle.  But if one’s just a little bit forward, you’ll hit it first, with full power, and it will absorb a lot of the momentum into the throw and drastically weaken it.  You’ll only take down one bottle, two if you’re really lucky.”

       “When I figured that out, I realized all you needed to do was either force him to set up the bottles properly, or figure out a way to knock it down.  First I wondered if I should just slam the stand and bring down everything, but when Derek scored a direct hit on the stand and it didn’t go down, I figured it was bolted in.  Then I tried to determine if I could bring something crashing down onto the stadium, but giant panda dolls are not very good demolitionists.”

        “At that point I was running out of ideas, so I had him explain the rules to me so he couldn’t say I cheated like he tried to later, and it gave me a few other thoughts.  I wondered if he would let me set up the bottles so I could make them straight, but I realized that he’d probably consider it cheating if I knocked everything down.  Then I toyed with the idea of just explaining the secret to him and walking out, leaving him dumbfounded, but I couldn’t.  You wanted the stuffed giant panda toy, and you’re with me, so I have to put up with you.”

       “So I just sat down for a moment and made some rough estimates to figure out where I should throw the ball from.  I was close enough, apparently, since I took everything down.  The small movement the carny makes with the bottles is enough to screw up most other throws...which is why no one wins easily.”

        “Wow.”  She finally says.  “This is why you’re my tutor.”

        “If you paid attention in class-”  I say, rolling my eyes, “-you’d have done that on your own.”

       “We know you’re smarter than me, Tyler.  And besides, school...honestly feels like the farthest thing from anything right now.”  She leans her head on my shoulder and smiles happily.  “I’ve had...so much fun.  I can’t remember a time when I’ve just let go of everything so much...I mean...Just wow.”  

        “I know what you mean.”  I admit, as she grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers.  “I think I could honestly say that...today was just, one of the best days of my life.”

        “There’s a way it could be better.”  Lindsey says shyly, squeezing my hand.  

        “How?”  I whisper.  Lindsey turns her head to me, our foreheads nearly brushing.

         ...Oh.  

         “You sure?”  I ask cautiously, not wanting to rush anything.

         “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”  With that confirmation, I lean in and press my lips to hers in the light of the waning night.

       **  
  
  
  
**

Omake

Tyler:   And to this day she still sucks at ice-skating.

Lindsey:  And you’re still mad because I got the drop on you in the snowball fight.


	7. Sweet Tooth, Revisted

 

...The first time she kisses him...

 

     It’s been a few days since we’ve officially started dating, and what better way to celebrate it than ice cream after the end of a tiring day of school?

     ...Well...

     “I only have like, four dollars.”  Lindsey admits, checking her wallet.  “That’s like, a small ice cream cup.”  Her school sweater is wrapped firmly around her body to ward off the unusual cold.  

     “I don’t have any money.”  I reply.  “I used it all to pay for our meal at the fast-food restaurant.  The violinist looks at me, scandalized.

     “You should’ve told me you were low!  I would’ve helped pay for the meal...”  I ruffle her hair fondly.  “That would’ve been terrible on my conscience.  And besides, I spent most of the money.  All you ate was, what?  A salad?”

     “And a bowl of soup.”  She adds.

     “You had a light meal.  Go get some ice cream.”  I say, pushing her gently towards the line.  She resists, dragging her heels into the ground.

     “...But then you won’t have any.”  The brunette responds despondently.  “It’s not an ice cream date if we don’t both have ice cream.”

      “Then we can have an ice cream date later.”  I say simply, and she nods, though a bit reluctantly.

      “...Okay...But I get to treat you on it, okay?”  I shrug indifferently and she runs to the line to get her ice cream.

      

      I watch her eat her chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream.

      “You eat both chocolate and vanilla?”  I ask, confused.  The brunette next to me nods.

      “...Well...yeah?  What’s wrong with two flavors?”  I mean, besides the fact that you’re eating two flavors at once...doesn’t that kind of ruin the point?

      “...At the same time?”  I wonder out loud.  She shrugs.  

      “Try it.”  Lindsey offers, holding out her spoon to me.  

      “No thanks.”  I decline, shaking my head.  “You really need to eat, or you’re going to pass out next class.”  Our lunch break is over in ten minutes.  It’s a good thing that the store is so close to campus, or we’d never have gone out on this mini-date.

      “Meh.”  She stirs around the last chunk of chocolate-vanilla swirl before scooping it onto her spoon.  “You absolutely sure you don’t want?”  

       “Positive.”  Lindsey eats the last bite and swallows.

       “...Okay, I kind of wanted to try it, but like I said, you needed to eat.  I’ll try some next time we come.  Tomorrow?”  Lindsey’s glaring at me.  “...No?”

       “You just wanted to know what it tasted like, right?”  The violinist asks me.  

       “Yup.”  

       “I can do that.”  And without further preamble, she leans over and presses her lips against mine.  

       And just like our first kiss in the Ferris Wheel, an electric tingle burns at the point of contact, slowly spreading through my body.  A kiss, physically, doesn’t feel like much - isn’t supposed to feel like much!  It’s just, in the form of our chaste kisses, like pressing your lips to your hand.

       ...Then why does it feel so amazing inside?  

       “Sweet.”  I murmur, when she breaks away from me, our foreheads pressed against one another.  “The flavors really complement each other, don’t they?”

        “Yeah.”  Lindsey whispers back, “Good?”

        “Mmmmm.”  She laughs and backs off, returning to her normal position.  A comfortable silence ensures.

      “...You know, if we don’t go, we’re going to be late for class...”  
  
  


Omake

Lindsey:   Haha, sap!

Tyler:   Need I remind you-

 


	8. Turning Point

...The first time she thinks she loves him...

    There was never a first time.  From the second I met him until the day I died, I knew that he would be the one, the one guy that means the world to me.  I just knew.

     I love you, Tyler.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Omake

Tyler:   Who’s the sap now?

Lindsey:  ..............


	9. Sidewalk Strolling

...The first time he thinks he loves her...

       “Wanna go for a walk?”  I ask.  School ended incredibly late today and both of us have been too busy to really sit down and just talk to each other.  A full four months have passed since we started dating back in February.  The summer finals are looming over everyone, but neither of us are worried about the exams.  We’ll pass without a problem.  

      “Sure.”  Lindsey replies, slinging her bag over her shoulder before grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together.  It’s a familiar habit of hers and one I don’t mind at all, as her thumb brushes over the back of my hand to tickle me slightly.  

       “So...”  I ask, walking down the road.  “How’re you holding up?”  

       “I’m doing great.”  She says, a smile already forming on her face as she stares at our intertwined hands.  “You?”  

       “I’m happy.”  I respond, raising our intertwined hands.  “School’s just getting more stressful.  It’s nice to have these moments where we can get them.”  

        “Yeah.”  Lindsey agrees, before abruptly letting go of my hand.

         “Race you to the boardwalk?”  She asks, grinning.  It’s not that far, only about a hundred yards away.  But still...

         “The sidewalks aren’t too crowded.”  Lindsey adds, staring at the mostly deserted street.  I nod, accepting her playful challenge.

         “Ready, set, go!”  And we’re off, sprinting down the sidewalks and dodging around the people in our way as we make a beeline for the wooden platform.  

        “Excuse me!  Running through! Sorry!”  I can hear Lindsey dashing around the few people left on the sidewalk, and their outraged protests.  I ignore them and keep running.

         Of course, being the good boyfriend that I want to be (or strive to be, according to Lindsey) I let her win the footrace.  Yeah.  I let her win.  It wasn’t that I was out of shape or that she was just quicker than me.  Absolutely not.

       She laughs in my face when I try to explain this to her, though.

       There's still a few people on the road, but the sky is already growing darker as the sun slowly drops down behind the horizon.  We sit down on a bench and she rests her head on my shoulder.

   She lets out the cutest little yawn and I chuckle as she goes a red to rival the sunset.  “Tired?"  I ask, and she nods wearily.  "Lie down."  I whisper, and when she looks confused, I scoot over so that she falls with her head landing on my thigh.  She rolls over so that she's looking up at me.

     "Thanks."  She says, and I grin.  

    "Anytime."  I reply, and a soft smile graces her face as she falls asleep.

     I watch Lindsey, mesmerized by the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes in sleep.  My eyes trace the soft curves of my face and I smile whenever she inadvertently makes a soft noise of contentment.

     So adorable.

     I amuse myself by running my hands through her soft hair, or by gently brushing my fingers against her face to brush the bangs out of her hair.  She doesn't react besides the occasional "Mmmm."  

     Is this love?  There’s a small smile on my face, one that I didn’t even know existed, as I watch the girl lying on my lap.  Is it...?

     I tap Lindsey awake about half an hour later and smile as her eyelids flutter open.  Her eyes track mine for a second before she sits up, yawning and stretching.  "Hey, sleepyhead."  I whisper, and she giggles.  "Hey.  How long have I been out?"

     "Not that long."  I reply, "Just wanted to watch this with you."  We both look out to where we have a nearly unrestricted view of the sun just barely hanging out over the water.

     "It's beautiful."  She says quietly, and I shake my head.  "Not as beautiful as you."  I murmur, and she playfully hits my arm.  

     “You know, I think I’m in love with you.”  I murmur, conflicted by the building emotions welling up inside of me.  She just blinks at me.

     “...Yeah.  I love you.”  I say lamely, and Lindsey just smiles. 

     “I’ve been in love ever since I found you.”  The violinist replies.

      And that’s pretty much all there is to it.  She rests her head on my shoulder again, and my hand finds hers, and together we watch the sunset fade away into darkness.  

**  
  
  
  
**

Omake (Does not go towards word count)

Tyler:    I refuse to comment.

Lindsey:   Ehehehe...


	10. Accomodations

...The first time he lets her into his house...

    It’s only been a year since Lindsey and I met, and nine months since we first started dating.  Time really flies by when you’re enjoying life, doesn’t it?

       “Hey, Lindsey?”  I ask, glancing at the brunette, who’s sitting in the library with me.  We’re more or less alone again, the librarian too engrossed in a book to care about what we’re doing.

       “Yeah?”

       “If I proposed to you, right now, would you accept?”  Her eyes widen. 

       “...Tyler, I’m not even of age yet.  I mean, wow, but-”  Pink blossoms on her cheeks as I tap her forehead with a finger to stop her rambling.

       “I don’t intend on proposing to you...yet.  Not for a while.  At least another year.  And you don’t even live with me, and I promise I’m not hiding a ring anywhere nor do I have the money to buy one expensive enough for you.  But, pretend I didn’t say that.  If I proposed, would you accept?”  I explain, and she relaxes slightly.  Slightly.   

      “...Well...I don’t...I guess...But...”  She covers her face with her hands.

      “...Yes.”  She squeaks out.  

      “Okay.”  I say simply, and drop my head onto her shoulder.  “Okay.”

      “...Is that your roundabout way of asking if you want me to move in with you?”  The violinist asks.

      “If you want it to be.”  I reply simply, and she nods.

      “Okay.  Yes.  I’ll move in with you.”  Lindsey kisses me chastely before standing up.  “...I’ve been waiting for you to tell me when.”  

      “I’m still amazed you’re actually moving in with me.”  I remark, Lindsey walking up besides me with a rollerbag.  I’m weighed down with two backpacks and a duffel, all belonging to her.  It’s night, the sun already faded beneath the horizon.  

      “I’m still amazed you’re okay with me living with you, even after I listed all the reasons you shouldn’t.”  She retorts.  

      “So what if you’re a messy person to live with?  I like cleaning.”  I say, shrugging.  “And you’re Lindsey, and your job is to be annoying.  Putting up with you more every day isn’t a big deal.”

      “This is why we get along.”  Lindsey says happily, jumping up the steps to my small apartment room.  “You’re endearing enough for me to live with your annoyingness.”  

      “Is annoyingness even a word?”  I ask skeptically. 

      “Probably not.”  

      “Figures.”  I say, opening the door to my clean room.  “Home.”  She leans her roller bag against my wall, and I drop the rest of her bags with it.

       “It’s...neat.”  She says.  And it is.  Clean white walls, wooden floor covered by a thick pale carpet.  A long sofa and television set are the most immediate features when you step inside, a small kitchen lining the far end.  Towards the right, there’s a hallway towards the bathroom and bedroom.  

       “I couldn’t possibly live in a messy place.  Germs.”  I shudder. 

       “I have no problems with that.”  Lindsey wanders off into the kitchen to inspect it.  “I can’t cook, either.  And you can, apparently.  More perks to being your boyfriend.”

       “Really?  What happened to the undying love you professed for me yesterday?”  I ask, playfully offended.

       “It died.”

     “Oh.” 

     “What are your neighbors like?”  Lindsey wonders curiously, running her hands along the stovetop. 

     “Very, very quiet.  Above us, we have an elderly couple who forgets who they are every day.  Below us...well, I think he’s a priest or something.  Between the two, there’s almost no background noise, since I bought soundproof curtains.  One window’s behind you, and one’s in the bathroom.”  Lindsey holds up a pan. 

     “That sounds great.  I lived with my parents, so...Well, now we don’t have to go anywhere for tutoring.  It’s a shame, I could’ve had you meet my dad.”  Lindsey grins, a bit sadistically.  I shudder.  

     “...I think I’ll be passing when that offer comes around.”  I reply blankly.  

     “You’re no fun.”  She pouts, sticking her tongue out at me.  “Ooh, is that a game console?”  Lindsey runs to my TV.  “It is!  Do you have Pro Racing 6?  I’ll challenge you.  And if not, we can buy the game and then you can get good so I can play someone decent!”  

     “Now you’re scaring me.”  Cue eyeroll.  

     “Alright, show me your bedroom and bathroom, then let’s start the study marathon.”

**  
  
**

    “And why did Romeo die in the tomb?”  I ask, my most recent set of questions having been based off ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the last story I’m quizzing Lindsey on.

    “Because he was an idiot.”  she replies confidently, eliciting an eyeroll from me.  

    “I’m feeling an intense deja vu right now.”  I murmur, as Lindsey rubs her eyes sleepily. 

    “You wouldn’t be the only one.”  The violinist responds, yawning.  “I’m going to go take a shower or something and then sleep, kay?”  She picks up a set of clothing from her bag and walks to the bathroom, disappearing inside it.

    I shake my head and walk back outside to the living room, rummaging through her stuff for a bit before pulling out a toiletries bag and walking back to the bedroom.

    “Hey, uh, Tyler?  Do you know where my-oh.”  I hand her the bag.  “Thanks.” 

    “Yup.  Want me to unpack your clothes for you?”  

     “Yeah...thanks.”  She shuts the door again as I walk back outside, coming back in a few seconds later dragging her bag behind me.  

     “Alright...shirts, pants...”  I take out her folded clothes and slide them into the proper drawers.  “School uniforms, jackets, sweaters, socks...”  Sorted neatly.  “Um...”

      “...Um, Lindsey?”  I can hear the shower running through the door.

      “Yeah?”  She shouts back.

      “Do you want to sort your underwear yourself, or...?”  

       Cue extremely awkward silence.

       “...I’ll do it...”  Lindsey responds quietly, embarrassment saturating her tone.   

       I immediately drop that particular bag of clothes back into her bag.  

**  
  
**

       Lindsey emerges from the bathroom in a red T-shirt and long black yoga-pants, comb in hand. 

       “Your turn.”  I shake my head.  “I took my night shower before I picked you up, Linds.”  

       “Alright.”  There’s a comfortable silence while she stands in front of the mirror and aggressively attacks a knotted section of her hair.  Her normally short brown hair has been growing a lot longer recently, reaching down to the small of her back, and she’ll be cutting it soon.  

    “Hey, um...Do you want me to comb your hair?”  Derek, my friend from Lindsey and I’s first date at the frozen lake and carnival, once mentioned in passing how Anna despised combing her hair after showers due to the lengthy processes. 

     “Um...are you sure you know what you’re in for?”  I nod.  “Alright...here.”  She hands me her comb and sits on the edge of the bed.  I roll my eyes.

      She shrieks when I pick her up and throw her farther onto the bed, face pressed into the sheets.  Scooting up next to her, I place a hand on the curve of her back.

     “Okay, how do you want me to do this?”  I ask, and she turns her head sideways to talk.

      “Start low, comb downwards.  Be  gentle. ”  She stresses, as I nod.  I pull the wide-toothed comb through her hair slowly, without resistance.  And again.  And again.

      “It’s a long process.  You sure you don’t want me to do this?”  She asks.

      “I’m fine.”  I say simply, running the implement through her hair.

      And it’s surprisingly fun, too.  Most of her hair is dried off, and I can tell I’m not starting the process but finishing it.  A few knots make themselves known and everything the comb doesn’t take care is unraveled at my precise fingers. 

      I like her hair.  The strands part at my fingertips, allowing me to run a hand through her hair.  I take a small sniff.  Vanilla.

      “Higher now.”  Lindsey says, voice sleepy.  My comb buries itself into the hair at her neck and goes down, straightening the hair in its path.

      Eventually, I finish, and by then she’s actually managed to fall asleep.  I smile at the unconscious girl before putting the comb down with the rest of her toiletries.

     A few minutes later, I fall asleep next to my girlfriend. **  
  
  
  
  
  
**

Omake

Tyler:    This author hates me, doesn’t he?

Lindsey:   Actually, he portrays your lack of masculinity perfectly.

Tyler:   Your panda's dead.


	11. Puzzling Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless reference to past piece.
> 
> Shameless idea stealing from self.

  
  
  
  


...The first time he meets her dad...

      “My dad wants to meet you.”  Lindsey blurts out one day, shortly before our graduation exams.  I glance at her to make sure she’s serious.

       “Um, no.”  I say.  Secretly, though, I can’t deny that I’m not even a little bit intrigued.  If Lindsey’s as quirky and dorky as she is, what is her father like?  

       The brunette pouts.  “Seriously, though, it’d be amazing!  Besides, you’re not actually allowed to say no to this.  It’s a required rite of passage.”  I frown.

        “But my parents are actually normal!”  I protest.  She glares at me.  “It’s not a request!  You have to see my dad!”  

        “But-”

        “Not a request!”

        I’m seeing her dad.

**  
  
**

         “Do you particularly enjoy puzzles?”  Lindsey’s dad asks me.  He’s tall, fairly old (as evidenced by the white streaks amongst his brownish-blond hair) with a kind face and gray eyes.   A plain sky-blue button-down shirt and beige slacks - he could pass as a golfer if he had a bag slung over his shoulder.    He’s invited me into the house (after Lindsey shoved me to the doorstep) and we are now sitting in the dining room, an oak table separating us.

     His question is odd, but I’m guessing it’s a test.  One of intellect, perhaps?  Puzzles...There are a lot of different ones.  A maze?  A crossword puzzle?  That Japanese number game, Sudoku?  Random video games?  It could be anything!  Of course, the puzzles don’t even have to be physical.  Lindsey, for example, was quite the entertaining mystery to figure out, at some times infuriatingly frustrating, but fun overall.  

      “You’ll have to specify.”  I finally answer after mulling it over.  “There’s a lot of variety out there and I would be here for hours if I had to talk about all of them.”  He smiles.  “Very good, very good.  As for the type of puzzle, jigsaw puzzles.”  He motions at the frames around us,  containing tasteful landscaping images.  At first I had made the assumption that they were simply pictures, but looking closer, I can see the lines indicating pieces carefully placed by a loving artist.  If that was a test, I didn’t do too well.  I should have been paying attention and, given the evidence, should have realized that he was referring to jigsaw puzzles.  

    “Erm...Not particularly.”  I say.  “It’s not something I really enjoy.  It’s just not my thing.  If I was forced to, I could, but it’s too repetitive for my tastes.”  Right now, I’m cursing Lindsey out inside my head.  If the old man makes me do a puzzle...

   “Really?  You should.  It has quite the interesting history.  In 1760, the jigsaw puzzle was commercialized by...”

    Lindsey, I’m going to kill you!

      

      "I have to go soon."  I say, inconspicuously sliding my phone into my pocket after typing out a hasty "Thank you!  <3"  I cracked after thirty-six minutes and begged Lindsey to save me from an impromptu history lesson on jigsaw puzzles.  

       The father of the girl I love nods, a smirk crossing his lips.  "Just a second."  He says, motioning me to sit as I make to stand up.  I drop back into my seat.

     "Lindsey said you were either incredibly patient or borderline psychotic when she was talking about your one-year anniversary.  She expressed surprise that you were still putting up with her."  I blink in surprised shock.  "I disagree with all of those options.  You're pretty damn smart, aren’t you?  She told me about your carnival date.  Figuring something out like that on the spot must have been pretty difficult, huh?”  I nod cautiously.

       “My daughter isn’t too weird for you?”  Lindsey’s father asks curiously, and I shake my head.  “I find her quirks endearing.”  

       “You love her.”  It isn’t a question.  It’s a statement.

       “Sir, she is the light of my world.  I...how do I put this?  Before I met her...my first two years of college, were done emotionlessly.  I had friends, but didn’t go out of my way to meet them.  I was just going through the motions, until I met her.”

       “Lindsey...Lindsey was something else.  I don’t know what it is about her.  Maybe it’s her natural charisma, or personality.  But the second I met her...it was like something broke.  I stopped living an empty dream and started really enjoying...the world, really.  She showed me things I’ve never seen before, heard before, tasted before...  Just simple things.  Ice cream.  Carnival games.  Skating.  Ferris Wheels.  Things I had stopped appreciating, or had never done before...Lindsey’s like my key.  And...with your permission, I’d want her to be my future, too.”  

       “I object to being called sir, Tyler.  My name’s Stephen.”  And that’s how I know I have his blessing.

     There's a knock on the front door, then the sound of keys.  Lindsey walks in, eyes immediately locking with mine.  Without meaning to, my lips quirk up into a smile.  The violinist flounces over to me and pecks me on the cheek, trading a knowing glance with her father.  "Hi, dad.  I hope you've been treating my boyfriend well.  He promised me a back rub tonight."  

   "I did not!"

   Stephen chuckles.  “I just have one thing to say, before you two leave.”  

    "Tyler.”  I look at the man.  “A good jigsaw takes a lot of time, and involves a lot of frustration and hard work.  This is just like a relationship.  As time goes on, you will probably get into a lot of arguments.  Be patient with each other, even if Lindsey is insufferable sometimes."  The girl gives her father a petulant pout.  "But when you put the pieces together-"

    "-You make the most beautiful picture."  Lindsey finished.  Stephen grins.  "Precisely!  With that said, off you go.  I can not afford to take up any more of your time and Puzzle #834 calls for my attention."  I cringe, tugging on Lindsey’s arm as I walk backwards towards the door.  "Bye, Tyler, Lindsey."  

   "Bye."

   "See you, dad!"

  

   “He likes you.”  Lindsey says simply.  

   “I hope so.”  I reply.  “I didn’t sit through puzzle torture for nothing.”  

   Lindsey just shakes her head, smiling.  

   Now...about that ring... **  
**

 

 

 

Tyler:    I thought he was gonna eat me.

Lindsey:   He’s not even scary!

Tyler:   Sit through his puzzle lecture.

Lindsey :  Who do you think had to put up with him when she was younger?

Tyler:  Your mo-  *dodges snowball*

****


	12. A Preposition

...The last time he proposes.

    “You ready, Lindsey?”  I squeeze her hand as we walk to our graduation.

    “Yeah, Tyler.  Good luck.”  A butterfly kiss on my cheek before she splits off into her name group.  

    The small box in my pocket hasn’t ever felt heavier.  

    

    “Nakamura, Tyler!”  I walk up to the stage.  There’s a polite smattering of applause.  I wasn’t disliked, but no one really knows me, either, and I wasn't expecting anything more than that.

    I lock eyes with Lindsey.  

    No, there was always her.  

    I accept my diploma and walk off the stage, watching the smiling face of the one I love.

 

  

     “Stirling, Lindsey!”  Similar polite applause, and a few cheers from her friends.  Her eyes finds mine before she takes her diploma.

      I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

**  
  
**

     Her parents are there, and she meets up with them briefly.  Her mom is almost a perfect copy of her, though a fair bit older.  Her dad locks eyes with me and smiles.

     I don’t have parents here.  Both of them were killed in a car accident, a story that Lindsey has yet to hear, but she’ll know soon.  I get the feeling, though, that if they were alive, they’d have been here, too, cheering me on.

    My heart pounds in my chest.  No one’s looking at me yet, but soon, everyone will.

    I love Lindsey.

    Does she love me enough for this?

    I know she does.

    But is this something she’s ready for?

    Her dad says yes.

    Her mom says yes.

    Derek and Anna think so, too.  

    It’s coming down to this, isn’t it?  Our barest layers, stripped of all emotions.  Our souls.  This is what everything comes down to.

    Is this how every guy feels before they propose?

    The box in my pocket feels startling heavy.  

    I reach Lindsey, and she turns around.

    “Hey, Tyler.”  She says, hugging me gently before stiffening.  “Is something wrong?”  

    “No.  I just wanted to ask...”  Lindsey’s parents look at each other before backing away slightly.  

     “Remember when we were at that ice cream store, when you kissed me for the first time?  Do you remember what you ate?”  

      “Yeah.  Chocolate-vanilla swirl.  I wouldn’t be able to forget.  Why?”  

      “Remember when I thought it would taste gross?”

      “Yup.”  

      “And then you, um, shared some with me, and I realized that the flavors actually complimented each other?”

       “Heh, yeah.  Why?”

       “I’ve been thinking, and I realize...we’re like the ice cream.”

       “You’re the chocolate flavor, because you’re sunburnt, and I’m vanilla, because I’m white?”

       “Um...sure.  That works.  My point being, chocolate ice cream is good.  And vanilla ice cream-”

       “-is awesome.”  She interjects.

       “Yes.”  I say, smiling slightly.  “It is awesome.  But the two flavors...while good alone, they’re better together.  So...”  

        “Get to the point.”  Lindsey whispers, grinning, and I laugh quietly.

        “I know.”  I say simply, dropping to one knee.  Lindsey’s eyes widen and her hands fly to her mouth.  Around our little bubble, whispers start spreading and people start pointing, and everything goes rather quiet.  

        “I could go on and on about how beautiful or talented or amazing you are, but as we both know, I’m terrible with metaphors and I’d probably just trip over my words and go in circles.  So, I’ll cut it short.”  I slip the box out from my pocket, and open it to reveal a simple diamond ring.

        “Marry me, Lindsey Stirling.”

         Silence for a second.  The awe on her face disappears to be replaced by a slow, creeping smile.  

         “Stand up, Tyler.”  Nervously, I do, coming up to my full height, just three inches taller than Lindsey.  “There.  This way, you can kiss me before I accept your proposal and put on my ring.”  I grin and step closer to her, brushing the bangs out of her face before tilting her chin up and kissing her.  Around us, the crowd cheers ecstatically.   

         I think my parents are smiling down at me from heaven.

         We break apart after a small eternity and I slide on Lindsey’s ring, who stares at it for a short moment before looking back at me to pull me down for another kiss.  

         ...And that’s the last time I ever have to propose to her, or to anyone.  

**  
  
**

        Because I’m hers, and she’s mine.

       

        Who cares about the rest?

          

**  
  
  
  
  
  
**

Omake

Lindsey:   I cared about the rest!  
Tyler:  The author was talking about the important people, Linds.  
Lindsey:  *runs away crying*  
Tyler:  Meh.  Well, we’ll see you in the next...ahem...bonus... *grins*  
Lindsey:   *walks back into screen and starts angrily beating Tyler with a pillow*


End file.
